“You are not going anywhere, milady.” Dismissing that dangerous idea with a stern look, he quickly, reluctantly translated their conversation for Keldan.
Who immediately headed for the display of weapons on the wall and grabbed a sword.
“Kel, wait—”
“I will kill him if he has touched her!” Keldan jerked his arm away when Hauk tried to reclaim the sword.
“Nei, you are not going to kill anyone.”
Avril cleared her throat. “I wonder if the two of you might grant me a moment’s privacy so I could don a few clothes?”
Hauk glanced at her, surprised that she did not argue about the order he had given her. “Of course,” he said gratefully, nodding. He grasped a handful of Keldan’s cloak, hauling his friend toward the door.
Outside, the bright sunlight dazzled his eyes, and the sound of the surf and seabirds made it seem deceptively like any other idyllic, tranquil Asgard morning.
Keldan shrugged off his restraining hand. “Take the blade if you will, Hauk. I will tear him apart with my bare hands—”
“And break the most sacred of our laws.”
“I do not care!” Keldan was already striding toward his horse.
Hauk caught his shoulder. “Kel, you are a carpenter, not a warrior. I will go after Thorolf. You return to town, alert everyone, and have them ride out to search the rest of the island. There is a chance he might have taken her somewhere else—”
“But it is most likely he is heading for the cove where you keep your knorr. He might already be there. He might already have...” He shut his eyes, lost the rest of the sentence in an agonized oath.
Hauk felt his gut clench. “He would not harm her, Kel. Not on Asgard soil. His fear of the eldrer is too great. And he would not have gone through the forest at night, when the wolves hunt. Thorolf may be a black-hearted knave, but he is not witless. He would have waited until this morn to enter the woods.”
“Which means he has been in the woods for more than an hour.” Keldan glanced up at the sun. “And it will take us at least an hour to get there.”
“Ja, but I take a shorter route through the forest than the path everyone else knows. I can reach the cove before he even—”
“We can. If we leave now.” Keldan stalked toward his horse, leaped nimbly onto the animal’s bare back. “I am going with you.”
Before Hauk could try to dissuade him, a sound behind them made him turn to see Avril striding out his front door—dressed in a billowy white linen tunic, tucked into a pair of his leggings cinched at the waist with one of his belts. Leather boots and gloves completed the outrageous outfit. A sheathed knife hung from her belt, and she carried a crossbow in one hand.
Speech eluded him for a full minute. “What in the name of Loki do you think you are you doing, woman?”
“Just as I said—I donned a few clothes.” She set the crossbow in the grass and reached up to tie a leather thong around her loosely plaited hair. “The boots and gloves were a wedding gift, and with a few of your garments, I am ready to set out—”
“You will not be setting out. You will be turning around. Go back inside, put the weapons away, and await my return.”
“Hauk, please.” She tossed her braid back over her shoulder, her eyes earnest as they held his. “I cannot remain here and simply wait while everyone around me rides off into danger. Not when my closest friend’s life is at stake. Especially when I may be responsible for getting her into this situation in the first place—”
Keldan interrupted. “Are we going?”
Hauk turned on him. “I am going. I am the vokter. The responsibility is mine—”
“And the responsibility for Josette is mine,” Keldan retorted. “I am the one who took a vow to protect her. If I had been more careful—”
“You could not have known she would walk out in the middle of the night.”
“While we all stand here arguing”—Avril came between them—”Josette is in danger.”
Hauk cursed. There was no time for this. He made a decision. “Keldan, ride to town and tell everyone to start searching the island—”
“Nei—”
“—And while you are there, gather up four or five of the men who went with us to Antwerp, the ones I taught to use weapons. They should still have the blades they carried with them on the voyage. Send one of them back here to watch over Avril, and take the rest with you and follow the common path through the woods. That is the way Thorolf would have gone. If you encounter him...”
Looking up at his friend, who was more at home carving furniture than wielding a weapon, he did not know what advice to give.
“Be careful. Keep your heads about you. Capture him and leave his fate for the council to decide, if you can... but do what you must to save your lady. I will leave at once and secure the boat before he can reach it. Rendezvous at the cove at midday.”
Jaw clenched, Keldan dug his heels into his stallion’s sides and set off at a gallop.
“Where is he going?” Avril asked. “What—”
“He is going for help. I am going through the forest by a shorter way than the path Thorolf would have taken.” Hauk took Avril’s elbow. “As for you, milady—”
“Alone?” She wrested her arm from his grip, her eyes, her voice full of concern for him. “You are going alone?”
“Aye.” Instead of trying to recapture her, he headed for Ildfast’s stall. “The people of Asgard are not accustomed to facing animals more dangerous than the chickens in their cookpots or the reindeer they milk in the mornings. And most have never used a weapon. If I were to take anyone along, they would only slow me down—and most likely shoot themselves in the foot with their own crossbow or end up as food for the wolves.”
“I will go with you,” she insisted, following at his heels.
He grabbed a bridle from its iron hook. “Avril, are you not listening? Anyone with a speck of intelligence avoids the western forest—”
“But I can help you.” She rested the crossbow over her shoulder. “I know how to use this, Hauk. I hunted with my father from the time I was eight years old. I have taken down wild boar and stags. You do not have to worry about me.”
His fingers clenched around the leather of the bridle as he slid the bit between Ildfast’s teeth. As much as he might admire Avril’s courage and loyalty to her friend, he also knew the vulnerable lady hidden beneath that bravery.
And he was worried about her. Her life had become important to him, in a way that had little to do with vows or duty.
She had become important to him.
“Avril, I am grateful for the offer,” he said, unlatching the stall door and leading his destrier out. “But I do not need your help. I do not need—”
“Anyone?” She planted one gloved hand on her hip. “As someone said to me last night, you cannot do everything alone.”
He scowled, sweeping a glance over her masculine garb and her weapons and her intrepid stance.
But instead of being impressed by her strength and fortitude, as she no doubt intended, he only found himself painfully aware of how very soft and feminine she was, the garments accenting her slender waist and lush curves... her breasts unbound beneath the tunic, the taut crowns chafed by the fabric, still sensitive from the attentions of his hands and mouth but a few wild, sweet moments ago.
Heat rivered through him. “I had intended to spend the day making love to you,” he said with regret.
She blushed furiously and looked down at her boots. “I... what we shared this morn was...” Closing her eyes, she left the sentence unfinished. “Hauk, we have to go.”
Wrenched by conflicting needs, he reached out to tilt her head up. He did not want to take her into the path of danger. And until Thorolf had been captured and brought before the council to answer for breaking the laws, Hauk needed to keep his mind on his duty.
Impulsively he drew her against him and gave her a quick, hard kiss. “You will be safer here. Keldan is sending someo
ne to stay with you.” Turning, he tossed the reins over Ildfast’s head and leaped up onto the destrier’s broad back.
She grabbed a handful of the stallion’s mane. “Hauk, if you leave me behind, I will only go into the woods by myself and try to help her!”
“I could tie you up,” he threatened, exasperated. “Carry you inside and tie you to the bed—”
“And I would fight you and we would waste more valuable time.”
He swore. “Stubborn, reckless, willful—”
“True. All true,” she conceded, reaching up to him with one hand. “So you had best keep a close watch on me personally, ja?”
He glowered down at her, provoked and astounded at her audacity. He did not know which he wanted more: to turn her over his knee or pull her into his arms and kiss her senseless.
With an oath, he grabbed her arm and helped her up behind him. “Someday soon, milady—”
“You will come to your senses and realize I am entirely too much trouble and set me free.” She gingerly wrapped her arms around his ribcage. “But for now we need to reach the cove as quickly as possible.”
~ ~ ~
Midmorning sunlight spiraled down to the forest floor, spattering the fallen leaves and grass and gnarled roots with cascades of brightness that whirled past in a blur. Avril kept her arms locked around Hauk as he guided Ildfast at a swift pace through towering oaks and dark evergreens that looked ancient, their massive trunks four and five feet wide, their bark almost black.
They had left the fields behind more than an hour ago, riding into the shadowy depths of the forest, where the thatch of branches high overhead made the air feel cool and damp. They followed no path that Avril could make out, but Hauk clearly knew exactly where he was going, his attention on the trees as if he followed some secret marks that served as guideposts only he could see.
She became only distantly aware of the direction they took, the pungent scent of pine in the air, the rhythmic drumming of the stallion’s strides. Her heart beating hard, she kept watch for any wolfish shapes that might appear out of the shadows.
Especially after she heard the first howl—an eerie, hollow cry rising and then falling, distant but unmistakable, answered by another wolf somewhere unseen.
A large fox darted past and gave her a scare at one point, but after riding half the morning, they had encountered naught more threatening than a few partridges, some curious rabbits, and a herd of small red deer.
Still, she remained tense, ready to grab the crossbow slung over her shoulder by its leather strap. “I do not understand,” she said nervously. “If the wolves here are such a threat, why do you not kill them?”
Her mouth was so close to his ear, she did not even have to shout to be heard over the wind that tugged at her plaited hair.
“Because if we killed the wolves, then the smaller animals would increase until they ran riot,” Hauk explained without looking back at her. “Then the plants would be destroyed. And there is no way to know what might happen next. We are careful not to tip the scales of nature in one direction or another.”
“Because you might destroy the island’s healing qualities.”
“Aye. We care for the island and the island cares for us.”
She considered that for a time, as they cantered through the maze of trees. “And why is it that your people do not carry weapons? Does no one ever go hunting?”
For a moment he did not answer.
“Peace is important among us,” he said simply, “and it is impossible to have peace if every man is armed, so weapons and violence are outlawed.”
“But I had always thought that the Vikings were by nature a... a...”
“A race of savage marauders, bent on pillaging and destruction?”
“That is certainly the reputation you had earned over the centuries,” she said defensively.
“That is the reputation our raiding ancestors earned for us,” he corrected. “But most of our people lived as peaceful farmers or craftsmen. And for all the Norsemen who went abroad in search of plunder, others went in search of trade and new sea routes and new lands.”
“Like this one.” Avril fell silent for a moment. She heard a note of wistfulness in his voice. It reminded her that the people of Asgard were the last of their kind.
Reminded her once more of how important it was to them that they remain hidden here, safe from the world.
“I believe you would find Asgard a pleasant place, if you would give it a chance.” Hauk glanced back at her over his shoulder, a quick, heated locking of their gazes. “A most pleasant place.”
She looked away, reminded vividly what had happened between them this morn—and acutely aware of Hauk’s body against hers now, so hard and powerful, her arms barely able to circle his ribs, his muscles flexing as he guided Ildfast.
Her breasts, pressed against his back, still felt sensitive from his urgent kisses, and the horse’s canter caused a rhythmic friction between them that sent tingles of heat to her middle. Her face scarlet, she ducked her head, thankful he could not see her reaction to him.
The destrier’s hoofbeats made the only sound for a long time, the sunlight splintering through the branches overhead, Avril’s mind splintering into a dozen troubling thoughts.
She offered another desperate prayer for Josette’s life and safety. If Thorolf had hurt her...
But nay, she could not let herself lose hope.
Any more than she could let herself lose hope of escape, of returning home.
That was the only way to explain what had happened in Hauk’s bed at dawn, she thought, her eyes misting. For a flicker of time, hope had abandoned her, and she had abandoned herself to him, given in to the yearning and tenderness and other, stronger emotions she dared not feel for him. Allowed herself to want and need in ways she had almost forgotten.
A new fear twisted through her: a fear of herself. Now that she had set those feelings free this morn, what if she could not conceal them from him, return them to that place deep within her heart where she must keep them hidden?
That same secret place, she thought, raising her head, that felt strangely at home in the forest around her, even with all its dangers. Mayhap because of all its dangers. Part of her found a fierce excitement in this place of ancient beauty, saturated with darkness and cool, rich colors of emerald and sky blue and a hint of gold. It was made all of shadows and mystery, risk and refuge, and she found it stirring, moving, somewhere deep in her heart. In her soul.
Much like Hauk himself.
She pulled away from him a bit as they rode on, trying to gain whatever distance from him she could. Last night, she had realized something that had filled her with despair: she knew now that it would be impossible for her to leave Asgard by herself.
So she must try to gain his trust, hope that he would grant her a bit more freedom. And try to find someone to help her reach home.
That would be a difficult enough task if she only had to struggle against the gentle warrior who had made her his captive bride.
But now she had to fight her own heart, as well. For Giselle’s sake, she would.
She must.
The sun had passed higher into its arc when they came to a clearing and Hauk reined Ildfast in at the crest of a hill, the horse prancing and blowing out noisy breaths.
“We are halfway there.” Hauk pointed off into the distance.
Through the trees, on the horizon, Avril could just make out the silvery-blue sparkle of the ocean. “Thank God! How much longer until we reach the cove?”
“Two hours, mayhap less.” Hauk swung his leg over the destrier’s neck and leaped to the ground.
“Then why are we stopping?” Avril asked when he reached up to help her down.
“To grant Ildfast a needed rest and a drink.”
As she landed beside him, Hauk held onto her a second longer than was necessary. His expression as he looked down at her sent a tingle of warmth through her. One of his hands lingered at the small of
her back, the gesture both steadying and possessive.
After a moment, he released her and tugged on the reins. “This is where I normally stop to rest him. And I have never ridden him through these woods at such a pace before.” He led the horse toward a stream that wound through the clearing—a quiet brook that flowed over the crest of the hill in a bubbling waterfall.
Avril followed, keeping one hand on the strap of her crossbow and a wary eye out for wolves. “Must we stop for long? I will not be able to rest until Josette is safe.”
“We will be but a few minutes.” At the edge of the stream, Hauk dropped the reins to the ground. “And we should reach the ship well ahead of Thorolf. Ildfast is earning his name today.” He patted the animal’s lathered flank as Ildfast stretched out his neck and guzzled greedily. “Faster than fire.”
Avril tried to resist a smile as she watched Hauk scratch the huge animal’s forelock with obvious affection. She moved away from him few paces, knelt on the grassy riverbank upstream, and took off her gloves. Cupping her hands in the cool water, she drank several handfuls to soothe her parched throat, then splashed her face, washing away dust and grit.
“We will have to go more slowly from here,” Hauk said. “The hills and valleys in this part of the woods are steep, and we cannot risk him breaking a leg.”
Avril nodded, picking up her gloves and tucking them into her belt. She stood and paced restlessly, tired from the long ride but too tense to sit down.
“Are you hungry, milady?”
She turned as Hauk tossed her an apple from his pack, which was lashed to Ildfast’s saddle. She caught it easily. “Thank you.”
Her stomach was in knots, but she took a bite anyway as she walked back to the hillside, watching the waterfall cascade over the steep slope.
“You ride well,” Hauk said around a mouthful of apple, coming over to join her, “for a woman.”
Avril almost laughed, despite all her anxiety. “I rather enjoyed the hint of surprise on your face, every time you glanced over your shoulder and saw that I had not fallen off.”
“I was not certain you could endure the rough pace.”
She arched her brows. “Have I caused you any trouble thus far?”
His Captive Bride Page 21
